


Sobremesa

by nastycab



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), Legend of the Three Caballeros (Cartoon), The Three Caballeros (1944)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Anal, Blow Jobs, Bottom Panchito, Cock Warming, Cockblock Donald, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, no beta we die like animatronic jose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nastycab/pseuds/nastycab
Summary: sobremesaf (pluralsobremesas)1. dessert (Portuguese)2. time spent at the table after eating (Spanish)3. something entirely particular between José and Panchito
Relationships: José Carioca/Panchito Pistoles
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	Sobremesa

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write some josepan fluff...... idk what happened
> 
> first time writing smut! hope y'all like it

“ _Sí, claro. Obrigado, amigo_ ”, upon signing the check, Panchito dismisses the waiter who delivered coffee and milk to his room, carrying the small tray to the table. 

  
José watches him from the couch where he sits, his chin resting on the armchair as his hazel eyes follow Panchito’s movements with attention — he lets out a sigh as Panchito places the tray on the coffee table and plops down next to him.

  
“ _¿Qué pedo, wey?_ ”, he asks, to which José straightens himself in his seat. 

  
“ _Pô_! I thought you were going to order dessert too”, he grabs a sachet of sugar and pours it into his cup, followed by the filtered coffee. The strong aroma invades their nostrils.

  
“ _¡Órale!_ , I called you over for _sobremesa_ since you said you already had lunch”, Panchito protests as he helps himself with the pot and some milk. “Didn’t you have dessert?”

  
José frowns at his answer in visible confusion, and then it hits him – “of course… I forgot you guys don’t call it that way.”

  
It takes Panchito a few seconds as well to notice the misunderstanding, then he lets out an ‘oh’ and offers him a rueful smile. “Sorry about that.”

  
José shakes his head while Panchito laughs. They take their first sip of coffee and nearly sigh in unison.

  
“I love the coffee they serve in here”, the Mexican says as he gulps more of his drink.

  
“Brazilian coffee is the best”, José grins as he finishes his cup. “You guys up there got nothing on us when it comes to that.”

  
“Don’t stretch, _compa_ ”, Panchito jabs him and smirks. “ _Le falta canela._ ”

  
“ _Que mané canela o quê!_ ”, the Brazilian scoffs and jabs him back. “Leave that cinnamon to your tacky coffee shops!”

  
At some point the jabbing escalated and they ended up playfully wrestling on the couch, squawking at each other in their own native languages — and at some point the wrestling escalated to Panchito straddling José and pinning his struggling arms above his head.

  
“So you can’t handle a little spice, eh?”, he cackles, but his mirth slowly falters when he notices there’s something wrong with José.

  
Not quite _wrong_ , per se, but — he fell silent all of a sudden and his face seems slightly flushed. Panchito notices the glint in his eyes, looking a shade darker than usual, the way he knits his eyebrows just a little. 

  
He notices the plumpness of José’s lips forming an ‘o’ as he subtly sucks for air, the way his chest rises under the thin fabric of his shirt. 

  
His Panamá hat is long gone, gracelessly fallen somewhere on the floor just like the cushions they attacked each other with on the sofa. 

  
José is absolutely astounding, Panchito knows that just as much as anyone else who ever lays eyes on him. But watching this flustered version of the same _malandro_ , breath hitching and body subdued underneath him — Panchito can’t help the astonishment or the warmth spreading through him at the sight of his best friend and long, _long_ time crush.

  
He feels the heat pooling beneath his stomach and inadvertently shudders. José blinks slowly — or maybe it’s just Panchito who thinks time has seemed to slow down, his own body arched in and his face dangerously close to his Brazilian friend.

  
José’s coffee-scented breath fans against his face when he asks in a thick carioca accent that the Mexican loves, “ _qual foi_.”

  
“Huh?”

  
“What’s up with you.”

  
“… My bad.”

  
He unfastens his grip on José and leans back — and that’s when he accidentally sits on his friend’s lap and hears a whimper escape from his own lips. There’s something poking his crotch over his jeans and _díos mio_ , he’s so pathetically aroused right now.

  
“ _¡D-disculpa!_ ”, he stammers and suddenly keeping his cool feels as hard as his dick in this exact moment. “Shit, I don’t—”

  
“Stop”, José cuts him off hastily. He leans on his elbows, eyes Panchito up and down and sets his gaze right on the painfully obvious bulge in his pants with a snort. 

  
“ _Caralho_. How did you get through the airport with that gun?”

  
 _¡A la pinche verga!_ _I’m so abso-fucking-lutely **ruined** right now!_

  
“I’m sorry!”, the distressed Mexican blurts out, “shit. I messed up. I don’t know why this is — I’m really sorry!”

  
Panchito makes a motion to get up but —

  
“ _Não, senhor! Volta aqui!_ ”

  
José sits up and swiftly seizes his waist, pulling him back down on his lap with full force. What can this desperately allured man do besides comply? 

  
And boy, does he comply. 

  
Panchito lets out a moan at the friction of their arousals, the firm grasp of José’s warm hands on his hips, dragging him closer, making him ride his erection over the shorts. 

  
He leans in and grips José by the shoulders, resting his forehead against his. Basking in the sensation as his friend slowly feels him over his clothes — the thumbs playfully brushing over his stiffened nipples make him gasp and squeeze his eyes shut. 

  
“Z-Zé—!”

José pants, teasing the same spot with a leer on his face until he feels Panchito squirm under his touch. “ _Puta merda_ —”, he grunts as his hands roam over Panchito’s body again and lets out a sigh when he eagerly grabs his ass, muttering, “this is so much better than I could ever imagine...”

  
Panchito wonders if his friend can hear his heart racing. He feels it thumping in his chest, blaring in his ears — it’s unbearable, the way he has pined for this man is maddening. 

  
And now he’s shamelessly dry humping him on the sofa and hearing José growl, returning all of his desire in equal measure. He licks his own lips with nervousness, slings his arms around José’s neck. 

  
Opening his eyes, he sees the Brazilian’s piercing gaze locked on his and tries to look away — but José’s hands fly to his face, cupping each side and holding him in place. 

  
“You okay?”

  
There’s a knot in Panchito’s throat. He wants to say _yes_ , that it’s been years since he craved for all of that, but the words are drowned out by the sudden dread of being too much for his friend. But then José slides his thumbs through his cheekbones until they reach his mouth, where he carefully presses the tips over his lips, slightly parting them open, lets them rest there. He refuses to break eye-contact with Panchito even for a flickering second.

  
“Panchito…”, he says under his breath, “ _dime qué quieres._ ”

  
Panchito’s cock twitches in anticipation upon hearing José softly pose that question — in _his_ mother tongue, of all things. Can this man make Panchito want him any more than he already does? 

  
He inhales sharply and manages to find his voice, albeit strained, to finally say, 

  
“ _Tú_.”

  
_Ha sido siempre tú._

  
José’s fond smile melts out in Panchito’s lips when he leans in for a kiss.

  
Panchito vibrates at the feel of the man’s tongue parting his lips, his mouth invaded with avidity in the meantime his own fingers plunge José’s hair, fisting the thick curls and tugging at them when he feels a hand sneaking inside his tank top — he gasps into the kiss when José reaches his nipple again and pinches at the sensitive skin, earning a moan when he rocks his hips against him in response.

  
“ _Vem cá_ ”, the Brazilian breathes out upon breaking the kiss, “let’s take this off.”

  
He helps Panchito pull his tank top off, tossing it on the armchair, and repeats the gesture with his own shirt. He nibbles at his shoulder, traces a path of sloppy kisses and bites over his tanned chest. And with a blunt grip to his hip, José skirts his tongue through a nipple as his fingers trace the other, thriving on the whimper Panchito lets out. 

  
“ _Tú me vuelves pinche loco_ ”, he chokes out, to which José hums. He pulls the Brazilian to his level and hungrily kisses him again, mirroring the previous touch to his chest. 

  
José laughs between kisses. “That makes two of us then.”

  
Panchito is ridiculously in love with every bit of this man and it can’t be helped — José makes it _so_ hard not to be swept off his feet by him, offering no resistance when the Mexican pushes him back down on the couch and places himself between his legs.

  
Panchito leans in and traces his mouth over José’s neck, his teeth scraping onto bronze skin as his hands work on unbuttoning the man’s shorts, unabashedly palming his bulge over briefs while the Brazilian groans, hands diving into the back of his jeans to properly squeeze his cheeks, fingertips shamelessly sinking into his flesh. 

  
José lifts his hips and moves his legs as so to help Panchito pull his shorts and underwear, and lets out a hiss upon hearing the loud thump when they’re tossed to the floor with his phone tucked inside a pocket. He quickly forgets about it though — there’s an immediate response from his dick, throbbing and dripping pre-cum, when he sees the Mexican lick his lips with anticipation. 

  
Panchito adjusts himself between José’s legs, pulling him closer and slinging his own arms behind his thick thighs. He places seldom kisses upon his skin, roaming through his inner thigh, and with fascination he says, “you’re such a work of art.”

  
José lets out a strained moan when Panchito circles his fingers around his cock and gives a tug at it. “ _Olha quem fala_ ”, he huffs and leans on his elbows to get a better look at the scene.

  
There’s a fiery devotion sparkling in Panchito’s eyes when he starts with slow and steady strokes to José’s dick, his lips merely brushing over the aching flesh — the Brazilian shudders and groans at the teasing, face flushed and lips sucking in a deep breath.

  
“ _Tan rico_ ”, Panchito whispers and slowly drags his tongue over José’s cock, thriving on the whimper that escapes from his lips when he sucks on its dripping tip.

  
“ _P-puta merda_ —”

  
He works his own mouth around his length, sliding a hand through the Brazilian’s chest, feeling the quick tension of his muscles and his erratic breath, while the other hand grips his thigh with such force it is likely to leave a mark on his skin — not that there weren’t a few of them already, at this point. 

  
The Mexican gradually quickens his pace, inhales sharply as he sucks harder, coating José’s cock with his saliva. And then—

  
 _ **Bzzz. Bzzz.**_

  
They shift their gaze to the phone resting on the coffee table. Panchito gawks when he sees Donald’s name flashing on his phone screen. He looks back at José with a worried look and feels his own cock throb within his jeans when he spots a coy smile on the man’s lips. 

  
“Can I answer it for you?”

  
Panchito visibly tenses up, afraid of disclosing to Donald that him and José are — _well_. But then José cups his face with a hand and says, “ _relaxa_. I’ll just tell him we’re out somewhere in town. Is that okay?”

  
The phone is still buzzing incessantly. Panchito exhales through his nose, not once taking José’s cock out of his mouth, and nods. José strokes his cheek before reaching the phone and putting the call on speaker. 

  
“ _Oi_ , Donald!”

  
“ _José?_ ”, Donald’s confused voice comes from the cellphone, “ _I thought I called Panchito?_ ”

  
“Yeah, you did”, José lets out a chuckle, “he left his phone here and went to the restroom.”

  
“ _Oh, okay_ ”, there’s a lot of ruckus in the background and Donald’s voice is louder, “ _what are you guys up to?_ ”

  
“We? Ah, we’re out in town”, he looks at the Mexican, quickly gesturing with his hands to him and upon being nodded at, he continues, “having lunch. Pancho said he was craving for some _meat_ ”, he snorts, “so I took him to this steakhouse downtown Recife.”

  
If Panchito wasn’t so busy, he would’ve probably cursed at José for that. And yet he remembers his _abuelita_ scolding him for speaking with his mouth full —

  
“ _Cool! Take me there next time!_ ”

  
“How’s your date, lover boy?”, he asks, to which Panchito shoots him daggers — his eyes silently posing a ‘ _why are you coming up with more things to talk about?!_ ’ as he warms the twitching cock up inside his mouth. José grins.

  
“ _Oh, it’s going really swell! Daisy is loving it! Olinda is so beautiful, Zé. She took some amazing shots of these colonial-styled houses, they’re so colorful and well-preserved!_ ” 

  
As Donald keeps blabbering about his date, Panchito hollows his cheeks around José’s dick, keeping it in a hard and steady grip — José snaps his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, his hand clutching to Panchito’s scalp. He inadvertently bucks his hips and almost makes the other man gag.

  
“ _We’re nearly done with lunch right now, and then we’re heading to Alto da Sé for our final stop!_ ”

  
José lets out a delighted sigh, “you’re gonna _love_ that place.”

  
He opens his eyes and looks at Panchito, who’s nearly tearing up as he holds all of José’s length into mouth, and smiles fondly, “such a beautiful view.”

  
At this rate, Panchito is certain that José Carioca will be his living end. His heart thumps loudly in his ears and his cock is desperately yearning to be touched. He holds still.

  
“ _Can’t wait!_ ”, Donald laughs, “ _anyway, I gotta hang up, Zé. Tell Panchito I said hi!_ ”

  
“ _Claro_ ”, the Brazilian strokes Panchito’s hair as he says, “have fun, you two. We’ll meet up in the hotel.”

  
“ _Thanks! I'll call you later!_ ”

  
Panchito’s mouth releases his dick with a loud ‘pop’ sound as soon as José hangs up, giving its tip a quick peck. 

  
“That was weirdly arousing”, he snorts, and then gets up.

  
José sits up and stares at him with curiosity while Panchito grabs his wallet. The Mexican fishes a condom out of it and throws it on the couch. He quickly gets rid of his jeans and trousers, freeing his dick of any restraints — and José wastes no time, taking it into one hand as the other squeezes his thigh. 

  
“ _Perfeito_ ”, he smiles at Panchito and the man nearly melts.

  
Panchito shudders at the long awaited touch and nearly cries when the warmth of José’s mouth envelopes his cock with enthusiasm, holding the sides of the Brazilian's face and spreading his own legs a little wider.

  
“ _Esa sí es una bella vista_ ”, he teases, letting out a strangled moan when José softly licks and suckles on one of his balls.

  
“ _¿Te gustas?_ ”, he punctuates his question with a slow drag of his tongue over Panchito’s length, stealing another moan from his lips.

  
“ _Me encanta_.”

  
José laughs softly before taking all of his cock into his mouth and pulling him by his hips. Panchito is unabashedly loud and desperate as José’s grip on him dictates their pace, rough and unforgiving to himself as he deep-throats him with eagerness. 

  
“I-I’m close”, the Mexican sinks his fingers into José’s hair as he tries to restrain himself, “Zé, _si sigues así v-voy a venir_ —"

  
José bluntly pulls him once more, face fucking himself with Panchito’s dick unapologetically until he’s tearing up — 

  
Panchito comes with a howl, shuddering violently as José sucks his orgasm out of him, not letting a single droplet of cum left as he swallows.

  
He’s dying to ask how did José manage to suppress his gag reflex, but decides to leave it to another time. The thought makes him wonder if there will be, in fact, another opportunity. While he can’t say for sure, all he wants is to make the most of it right now.

  
He pushes José until his back rests on the couch, straddles him once more, cupping his cheeks and staring at him with sheer adoration. He tastes himself in José when he sucks his tongue. 

  
He kisses him with such raging passion and need, as if he feared his friend would suddenly realize what was going on and run away from this room. Run away from him.

  
He doesn’t want to think about it when he whispers against José’s lips — 

  
“ _Cógeme_.”

  
All he wants is to bask in the sensation of the Brazilian shuddering beneath him, squeezing his hips in hands as he grunts and swears in approval. He gives him a quick kiss before bending over the armchair to rummage through his bag on the floor in search of lube.

  
“It should be somewhere in here—”

  
He lets out a startled gasp when he feels José’s hands on his ass, spreading his cheeks open and saying, “take your time, _amor_ ”. 

  
José’s lips feel warm against his skin, the wet trail of saliva mingling with sweat, and Panchito can’t help his whimper when they reach his hole, where José tentatively circles the area and presses his tongue, his hands squeezing him and spreading him wider as he eats him out.

  
Panchito tries to focus on his task, one hand clutching to the armchair as the other fumbles through his belongings. He spots a bottle of cold water wrapped in a towel in there and takes it out, suddenly acknowledging his dry throat. A groan escapes his lips at the feel of José’s tongue suddenly fucking him, stretching his hole — he breathes heavily, finally fishing a small tube out of his bag and raising it above his shoulder with a shaky hand.

  
José stops and leans over him, kissing his shoulder blades as he grabs the tube. Panchito tilts his head and asks with a thick, stuttering voice, “ _¿agua?_ ”

  
To which the man snorts and promptly answers, “ _com certeza_.”

  
He grabs the bottle and leans back against José’s chest, handing it to him. He quietly watches the man hydrate himself, the cold droplets escaping from his lips and falling on his own heated skin make him wince.

  
José hands him back the bottle, caressing Panchito’s shoulders and arms in the meantime the Mexican helps himself large gulps of water. He raises Panchito’s free hand to his lips, placing idle kisses over his fingers, his palm, his wrists — 

  
Panchito’s stomach flutters in response to such tenderness. He closes his eyes and inhales sharply, letting the emptied bottle roll off the couch and fall to the floor as he turns his face to kiss José’s jaw over and over.

  
“ _Tá tudo bem?_ ”, he hears José asking between kisses to his hand. 

  
His chest tightens at this. It’s not even _fair_ how tender and considerate this guy is, it makes him want to yell how much he wants him, how much he cares about him, how much he —

  
He just nods instead, to which José smiles at him and says, “ _vira pra cá então_.”

  
He does as it’s said, holding on to José’s shoulders as he adjusts his legs. The Brazilian leans back on the couch, coating his fingers with lube, half-lidded eyes looking at him.

  
When Panchito feels the cold touch of the first finger making its way into him, he hisses and tries to look away — to which José’s free hand holds him by his jaw.

  
“Panchito... let me look at you”, he softly asks, running a thumb over his chin.

  
Panchito feels the signs of a new arousal tugging at him — feels them in the way his cock twitches to such a simple request, in the way he rocks his hips around José’s finger, fucking himself in it, asking for another, pleading for more.

  
“ _Isso_ ”, José sighs as he puts the third finger inside and stretches him — face flushed, his gaze pierces the Mexican with a frenzied glint.

  
“ _Dámelo_ ”, Panchito moans as he rides his fingers, “ _dámelo todo_ , Zé.”

  
José’s fingers come out of his hole with a slick noise, his other hand slides to Panchito’s waist. The Mexican makes room for him so he can put the condom on, breathing heavily with anticipation as he watches José tugging at his cock, coating it with more lube on the rubber.

  
And when Panchito is about to pounce back into his lap and ride him for his life —

  
_**Bzzz. Bzzz.** _

  
“ _¡No mames, puto!_ ”, he sighs in annoyance. “It’s your phone this time.”

  
“Can you pick it up for me? It’s in my pocket.”

  
Panchito turns around on José’s lap, bending over to fish the phone out of the shorts tossed on the floor. Once again, Donald’s name flashes on the screen and they both snort. 

  
“ _Mas que empata foda, hein, cara?_ ”, José shakes his head in disapproval. “Put him on speaker please.”

  
Panchito turns his face and gawks at him in protest, but José pays no mind, placing a trail of mindless kisses upon his body instead. “ _Relaxa_. I’ll do the talking.”

  
Before Panchito puts the phone on speaker, José adjusts himself on the couch and grabs his hip, his cock teasing him with a tentative rub of the tip in his ass.

  
Panchito answers the call and has to clasp a hand over his own mouth as he slowly works his way around the Brazilian’s length, quivering at the stretching sensation until he’s fully sat on his friend. 

  
“Hey, Don.”

  
“ _Zé! It’s amazing! Everything about this place is magical!_ ”

  
José snorts at their friend’s excitement, “I know, right?”, he answers as he replaces Panchito’s hand on his mouth with own, bucking his hips against him — feeling him shudder at the hard thrust. “Breathtaking.”

  
Panchito steadies himself with his hand on José’s knees and his own back pressed to his chest, muffled pants escaping his lips as he feels a warm hand reaching for his cock.

  
“ _I sent you guys some videos we made up in here but none of you replied! Where’s Panchito, by the way?_ ”

  
José strokes him slowly, feeling the length hardening in his hand. 

  
“He’s, uh, talking to the bartender on the counter right now”, another stroke as he nibbles his shoulder, “he seems very entertained with whatever they’re talking about as far as I can see from here.”

  
“ _Well, don’t get jealous!_ ”, Donald laughs. “ _I’m sure he’ll give you lots of attention anytime!_ ”

  
Panchito knits his eyebrow with intrigue at the remark, tilting his head slightly to the side. José looks away and thrusts harder —

  
“Don’t be silly”, he replies a little too heartily, giving faster strokes to Panchito’s dick, who squeezes José’s knees in response as his legs tremble and his breath hitches. 

  
“ _Seriously though, Zé. It’s been years already. When are you going to talk about that?_ ”, Donald asks, to his absolute dismay. “ _I’m sure he’ll still be your friend no matter what. Maybe something could come out of it—_ ” 

  
Panchito snaps his head back at José with a questioning look, notices the flush in his face. The Brazilian, for once, is the one who refuses to look at him, burying his face in his hair instead and tightening his grip around his arousal.

  
“ ** _Donald_** ”, he unwittingly raises his voice with harshness and regrets it right after, “Donald. I love you man, but I _really_ need to go.”

  
“ _But—_ ”

  
“ _Beijo!_ ”, José says as he hastily hugs Panchito’s waist, bending over as he reaches for the phone and hangs up. 

  
He lets out a long sigh against Panchito’s back, whose voice is no longer restrained at this rate. The Mexican breathes heavily, grasping the coffee table for balance, body sore with exertion in that position. He feels himself slowly cool down, suddenly acknowledging the AC at minimum temperature due to the unbearably hot weather in Pernambuco.

  
He holds a hand up in a silent request for a pause, to which José hums. They sit there in a far from comfortable silence, their breaths are loud and shaken within the walls.

  
He struggles to get up, the half-hard cock inside him coming out with a wet sound. With a long stretch and a groan, Panchito turns back to a rather distant-looking José and addresses what seems to be inevitable right now —

  
“ _¿Qué fue eso, wey?_ ”

  
The Brazilian shifts his face to him with a sheepish smile, looking away once more as he removes the condom. 

  
“ _Bobagem, cara_ ”, he chuckles nervously, standing up. He walks up to the minibar as he speaks, “Donald is just—well, it doesn’t matter. Can I get you some water?”

  
“… Sure.”

  
Panchito is having a hard time trying not to ruin the mood by pressing harder, itching to figure out what’s the matter between his two best friends. He grabs the water bottle from José’s hands and points his chin to his bed in an invitation. 

They silently sit next to each other in bed and share the bottle — and he tries his best to let it go, he really does. But watching his friend with such a distant look on his face is just too much for him.

  
“Look”, Panchito starts as he puts the bottle down, “I don’t wanna pry—”

  
And suddenly he’s cut off by José with the unexpected softness of his kiss. Panchito’s face is cupped in hands, his back hits the mattress as José places himself between his thighs and arches over.

  
“I’ll tell you later”, he says under his breath, nuzzling his face. “ _Juro. Falo tudo o que você quiser saber depois_.”

  
This elicits way too many physical responses from Panchito, who is completely at loss of words. He wraps his legs around José’s waist, presses him so close to his body he’s not even sure whose heartbeat he feels pounding in his chest — he just allows himself to thrive in it, sinking his teeth into José’s shoulder, sucking hard on the skin when he feels the heated press of their cocks rubbing in a steady pace.

  
He cradles José in his arm, hears him inhale sharply against his hair — he feels so hard underneath him he could probably reach his peak with a few strokes.

  
José leans back, adjusting his lower body beneath Panchito in a sitting position, stays there in silence. The Mexican opens his eyes and gives him a curious look, resting his back against the pillow, to which José just snorts. And then he joins their arousals with his free hand, earning a startled moan in response —

  
Panchito clasps the hand on their cocks with his own, panting and huffing. Their strokes come into sync with hasty tugs. 

  
The burning sensation eventually feels too much as Panchito realizes he won’t last much longer — he fists José’s hair, whispering against his ear, “ _ven conmigo_.”

  
José rocks his hips with a gasp, fucking their hands in a blunt thrust, buries his flushed face in Panchito’s neck. When he’s about to burst his release, however, the Brazilian holds Panchito tightly and flips them over in bed —

  
“ _Puta que pariu, amor_ —”

  
He lets himself go hard and loud, spurts of cum leaking from both hands, spilling on their sweaty bodies as Panchito comes along with a strangled moan, not really bothering with the mess when he plops over José’s chest.

  
It takes quite the effort for Panchito to look for hand towels in the nightstand, kneeling on the edge of bed as he fishes them out of the first drawer. Weariness comes crashing over them as the AC gradually cools their bodies down, and once they wipe the cum off their skin, José places his clean hand on Panchito’s arm.

  
“ _Tá tudo bem?_ ”

  
His voice sounds shy, his face has a look of concern. It makes Panchito wonder if he regrets it. 

  
He tests the waters — “are _you_ okay?”

  
“We just had sex”, José replies followed by a nervous chuckle. “I don’t even know.”

  
“… Yeah.”

  
Panchito sighs. He really doesn’t know what to do or say on this matter anymore. At this rate, he just braces himself for whatever outcome awaits him. 

  
“But I, uh… I would do it again sometime”, José continues, to which Panchito looks befuddled. He tentatively moves his hand to Panchito’s hair, “anytime”, and seems to hesitate before leaning in, “every time.”

  
Something flutters in Panchito’s chest, makes him shiver. José’s eyes pierce him with a such sublime glint it makes him feel ridiculously flustered and vulnerable, thinking of the way he placed kisses on his hand, thinking of the way he called him _amor_ —

  
“I really liked it”, Panchito blurts out. “I really, really like you, Zé.”

  
“You have no idea how much I really, really like you too.”

  
José has officially become Panchito’s living end, confirmed. His heart races, his breath hitches, his mind is completely blue-screened.

  
He tries to brush it off with a joke.

  
“C-call me _amor_ again and we, uh—we might as well put a ring on it”, he snorts in an attempt not to sound too pathetic —

  
“Would you prefer I called you _papi_?”

  
Somehow José manages to make it worse.

  
“ _¡No mames!_ "

  
They burst in laughter at that. Panchito barely has time to react with a yelp when José pins him back down on the mattress and attacks him with kisses. 

  
“Okay, _amor_ ”, he says between them, earning a gasp in response. “ _Amorzinho. Mozão. Amor da minha vida. Meu amor_. Are these good enough? I’ve been thinking of using them for years now.”

  
Panchito is so terribly in love with this ridiculously cheesy man he can barely register it — all these long years of mutual pining suddenly crashing down and colliding.

  
He could probably explode with so much love and happiness right now. 

  
“I want them all”, he pulls José closer, nuzzling his face, “I love the way you say these, _cariño. Tesoro. Mi vida. Corazón. Mi amor_.”

* * *

It’s already dark outside when Panchito wakes up with the hotel room’s phone ringing. He cracks an eye open, reaching a hand to the bedside and pulls the receiver to his ear.

  
“ _¿Bueno?_ ”

  
“ _ **Finally!**_ ”, Donald’s squawking voice comes blaring through the phone, making Panchito wince. “ _I’ve tried calling your phone a million times in the last few hours! Is José with you?! He hasn’t answered his phone either! Are you guys okay?! Did something happen?!_ ”

  
“Sheesh! Calm down, _wey_ ”, he laughs. 

  
Shifting his gaze to the other side of bed, he sees José taking a deep breath and slinging an arm over his body.

  
He can’t help his smile when he says, “we were a little caught up with _sobremesa_ , ‘s all.”

**Author's Note:**

> “Claro” = “Sure”
> 
> “¿Qué pedo, wey?” = “What’s up, dude?” - Mexican slang, pejorative.  
>   
> “Wey” - Mexican slang, equals to dude, man, buddy, etc.
> 
> “Pô” – Brazilian slang, commonly used to express frustration.
> 
> “¡Órale!” – Mexican slang, can be used in varied contexts (in this case, surprise).
> 
> “Compa” – Mexican slang, shortening for compadre.  
>   
> “Le falta canela” = “It lacks cinnamon”.
> 
> “Que mané (…) o quê!” – mané is a Brazilian slang to express that someone (or something) is silly, lousy, lame. (Poor cinnamon)
> 
> “Qual foi?” = “What’s up?” - Brazilian slang, especially used in Rio de Janeiro. Like “¿qué pedo?”, it can be used in many contexts.
> 
> “Caralho” – Brazilian slang, VERY pejorative, literally means penis. Commonly used to express surprise, anger, etc. or to define intensity. (In Rio we use these like commas in a sentence.)
> 
> “Pinche” – Mexican slang, VERY pejorative, means… kitchen boy. Used for insult enhancer (like “fucking”) or to express that something is lousy, miserable or worthless.
> 
> “¡A la verga!” – Mexican slang, very pejorative, literally means “to the dick”. Can be used in varied contexts. (In this case, it works like a “oh fuck!”)
> 
> “Não, senhor! Volta aqui!” = “No, sir! Come back here!”
> 
> “Puta merda” = “Holy shit”  
>   
> “Dime qué quieres” = “Tell me what you want”
> 
> “Ha sido siempre tú” = “It’s always been you” 🥺
> 
> “Vem cá” = “Come here”
> 
> “Tú me vuelves pinche loco” = “You’re driving me fucking crazy”
> 
> “Olha quem fala” = “Look who’s talking”
> 
> “Tan rico” = “So delicious” or “so good”
> 
> “Esa sí es una bella vista” = “Now, that’s a beautiful view”
> 
> “¿Te gustas?” = “Do you like it?”
> 
> “Me encanta” = “I love it” (In this context)
> 
> “Si sigues así voy a venir” = “If you continue like this I’m going to come”
> 
> “Cógeme” – In Spanish, it means “catch me”. When you’re really horny, it means… yep.
> 
> “Com certeza” = “Absolutely” or “for sure”
> 
> “Tá tudo bem?” = “Is everything alright?” or “are you okay?” – Brazilian Portuguese, colloquial.
> 
> “Vira pra cá então” – “Turn around then”
> 
> “Isso” – In Portuguese it means “that”. In Brazil, if used alone it can express approval, satisfaction, etc. 🌝
> 
> “Dámelo todo” = “Give it all to me” – Eheh.
> 
> “¡No mames!” – Mexican slang, pejorative. Similar to “no way!”, “stop messing around!”, “are you fucking kidding me!”, etc.
> 
> “Empata foda” = “Cockblock” (I love this one lol)
> 
> “¿Qué fue eso?” = “What was that?”
> 
> “Bobagem” = “Nonsense”
> 
> “Cara” – Brazilian slang, similar to dude.
> 
> “Juro. Falo tudo o que você quiser saber depois.” = “I swear. I’ll tell you everything you want to know later.”
> 
> “Ven conmigo” – “Come with me” 🌝
> 
> “Puta que pariu” – Brazilian slang, VERY pejorative. Used to express surprise, anger, frustration… strong emotions. (I’m skipping the translation lol)
> 
> “Amorzinho”, “Mozão”, “Amor da minha vida”, “Meu amor” – Brazilian terms of endearment, mostly used for romantic partners. These are all basically a variation of the word “amor”, which means “love”.
> 
> “Cariño”, “Tesoro”, “Mi vida”, “Corazón”, “Mi amor” – Spanish terms of endearment.
> 
> thank you for reading! 
> 
> let's pray our waltie boy won't rise from his coffin to yeet me out of this existence lmfao


End file.
